


Golden Place

by Trefoil_9



Series: Undertale Flash Fictions [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Flash Fic, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Golden Flowers, descriptive fic, fluff and then angst, garden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 16:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11971434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trefoil_9/pseuds/Trefoil_9
Summary: What's outside the windows in the Judgement Hall? [standalone]





	Golden Place

The new Capitol was called New Home, and fittingly, the new palace was referred to, at least by Asgore, as New House. The monsters were beginning to refer to it as the Golden Hall.

The Royal Courtyard in Home the First had been nice, but a bit dry and dreary: tall, open stone pillars, the dull purple common to the stones in that area, with a breath of cave draft wandering through and rustling the dead red leaves that on either side of the path, in what would have been a garden if there had been sunlight. The Dreemurrs were able to keep an avenue of Surface trees alive with magic, but the leaves never turned green, but grew in dark red, shriveled immediately and drifted down to the stone pavement. There was no grass. A fountain burbled sadly on one side, bearing an inscription of farewell to those monsters who never made it to the Barrier, and on the other side stood a statue commemorating the soldiers who had died in the war. Dark vines clung desperately to the pillars, and a sad, dry drifting sound filled the place as the leaves settled slowly and began to decay into dust.

The new Courtyard had the arches filled with golden glass patterned with the Delta Rune, and outside those windows was a real garden. After years of trial and error the monsters had discovered how to make a light-crystal simulate sunlight well enough that it would nourish Surface plants, and the monsters had carefully carried the seeds of grasses and flowers that had fallen down from the surface to Asgore to grow. The walled-in gardens were like perfect pieces of Surface summer, trapped in the dark of the Underground by magic. The air was bright and full of the living scents of grass and pollen. Golden-tinted light hung over the trailing plants, which grew wildly under Asgore’s care, as if to make up for the absence of their kind elsewhere in the Underground. Each garden had a system of lanterns that left no part of the garden in deep shadow.

The gardens were open to all monsters, 24/7. Asgore’s decree. Otherwise he didn’t see the point of keeping so many of the rare and difficult to create sunlight crystals for himself. There was a guard stationed at the gate to each side, and monsters often came in to wander the paths and admire the flowers, or just sit and bask in the atmosphere. Some brought friends who were sick or fatigued, thinking the concentration of light and life magic would help them, and though no miraculous cures occurred it was well known that the gardens were an encouraging and uplifting place to be. There was almost always someone there, even in the wee hours: monsters who couldn’t sleep or who got off work at strange hours (after all, there was no sunrise or sunset to chase) would wander in and lie on the grass or strike up conversations with the guards.

The royal children were often there. Asriel would have preferred to spend more time outside, roaming the streets and meeting people, but his parents didn’t like him going out alone and there wasn’t always an adult handy, and besides, his new best friend loved the gardens. Chara would lie in the grass for hours if allowed to—she never was, Asriel would come up with a game for them to play and she’d play it.   
“Does it remind you of home?” Asriel asked her once, and she shook her head promptly.

“Not at all?”

“No. It’s much nicer.”

After their deaths Asgore began turning the lanterns off on one side of the garden, then the other, to simulate a changing slant of sunlight. There was no reason to keep both gardens fully lit at once, and it saved energy to keep the lanterns on one side at a dim glow. A twilight garden was another kind of beautiful, after all, and so were the shadows spilling across the Courtyard floor from the one wall of light. Both gardens would still be lit sometimes, for festivals and special occasions, and for the children’s birthdays, when the two small statues that had been set up, one in each, would be given golden flower crowns. 


End file.
